


Chilly Mornings

by dragongoats



Series: Adventurers of Thedas [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: DAIMP, Fluff, M/M, Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongoats/pseuds/dragongoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cillian has a good morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chilly Mornings

The morning is quiet, but for the familiar sounds of creaking wood, a gentle whistle of wind through trees, the distant barking of a dog. Cillian slowly drifts awake—mind returning from the fade— images of memories and dreams fading with each passing moment of wakefulness.

Despite the enticing, lingering smell of brewing coffee, the chilly morning air that seeps through the glass of the windows near the bed makes him shiver and burrow his body further into the pile of down blankets—savouring the delicious warmth, his mind still hazy and calm from sleep.

The distant barking begins to grow louder, closer. Cillian lets out a soft groan, hiding his head under his pillow, wanting peace, quiet, for just a moment longer.

He's abruptly dragged from his restful state by a loud bang of the door and a sudden heavy weight on his legs.

Cillian mumbles, grumpily, despite the whining pleas of the large and cuddly Mabari hound— a creature who loved to snuggle despite his size. 

Thornton's low, calm voice rumbles, the sound muffled under the protective layer of pillow. Then the heavy weight is gone—with an abrupt bounce of the mattress, a lighter touch replacing it. Thornton's hand, rests on his leg, briefly— comforting, loving, reassuring, soothing, apologizing, his actions often meaning more than words— but then it too is gone.

Cillian peaks out of his nest of pillows, curious at the sounds rising from the kitchen— a bang of a pot, a clink of glasses, Thornton humming under his breath, a familiar tune he couldn't quite place. He sits up, curling the blankets around him, to keep the warmth in, and watches Thornton busy himself, watches him turn around, flash him a brilliant smile and saunter over to him.

The mattress dips down at his side, as Thornton sits, offering him a steaming mug of coffee. Cillian takes it gratefully, smiling to himself, feeling a bit more awake—breathing in the aroma. 

Thornton leans in, his thumb caressing Cillian's cheek, and places a light kiss on his lips— lips warm from the coffee. 

"Plans for the day?" Thornton asks, his hand still gently cupping Cillian's face, fingers threading through his hair, teasing the sensitive skin of his neck.

Cillian shakes his head, smirking, shivering from his touch—feeling warm, loved, safe, at ease. He breaths out a sigh. "Well, yes. But not just yet..."


End file.
